Vengaboys Are Back In Town

Ever like anything that makes you embarrassed? Like I like reality TV shows. Yes, this dorky intellectual likes reality TV. In fact, I saw some of the people from The Real World and Road Rules down in the Bahamas, and I was all excited. Well, maybe that was the Voodoo Punch, but I digress.

I am writing this post because I can’t seem to stop listening to the Vengaboys, which is basically the cheesiest Techno/Party music there is. I’m addicted. I mean, what is it about the Vengaboys that I like so much? Will I ever get this Monkey off my back?

Dancing on Roller Skates

So one of my favorite things to do is make a trip up to New York to go to Central Park. My favorite thing to do in the park is watching people dancing on Roller Skates. I love the music that they play, which is usually Disco, Funk, and Old School Hip-Hop. But more importantly, I love being around people who love life. Every weekend, when the weather is warm, people originally from all over the country, from the homeless to the Wall Street exec, with roots from both the Slaves to the Pilgrims, get together to just enjoy life and dance on Roller Skates. It is just so great to be around people who love life like this.

I remember a little Beef and Beer fundraiser that I went to for the Boys Club in my neighborhood. While I was there, I got to talking to a group of people in their 50’s who had grown up together in my neighborhood. We got to drinking and talking about how it was when they were coming up. Then we hung out afterwards at one of their houses. We drank some more, and talked some more. They played music from their day ranging from the Temptations to the Rolling Stones. There was such a great spirit about these people. Hear I am, this 23-year-old kid, and these 50 something’s are partying it up, and their love for each other and for life was amazing to watch and be a part of.

I just got back from vacation in Freeport in the Bahamas. By some weird stroke of fate, it also happened to be Spring Break. I met a lot of cool and fun people both at my Resort and at Port Lucaya Marketplace, which is an area with Bars, Restaurants, and shops in the main part of town, along with the party spot, Count Basie Square, which is an open area with a stage that is right near the Marina. Anything named for Count Basie has to be cool, but I digress.

So, on St. Patty’s Day, it is raining, so most people are under the cover in open air Bars. I was having fun watching this family near me. A group of kids came down and were getting festive with their parents on Spring Break. How freaking cool is that? The one guy, who I identify with a lot was joking that he should use the pickup line “come meet my Mom”. “Let's Hear It for the Boy”, which is a song that was played in Footloose came on, and I joked with him that he looked like the guy from Footloose. He asked, “Who, Kevin Bacon?” To which I said, “No.” Then his sister quickly replied, “No, Chris Penn!” This family just knew how to have fun, and it was great to be around them.

Later that night, the music is playing, but it is raining, and I decide, Fuck it, I’m going to go dance, and I did The Electric Slide in the rain, along with danced closely with an attractive young lady, the close part being her idea and not mine, which was definitely a first. Then later on, I was hanging with a group of guys and girls from Virginia, and they did what they call a “Dance Off”. Now, it isn’t raining anymore, but there aren’t that many people in the square, and the music is not really playing anymore, but we did it anyway. The whole thing was like a dance challenge where we would do moves and then they would. One of the moves that we did was shaking our pants off in front of them. I had boxers on, but still, this is a big step for me, Voodoo Punch or no Voodoo Punch. In another move, we took are shirts off, twirled them like a Cowboy and then put them around the girls necks. I’m not sure whether the girls flashed us or not, but they came close to doing it. Now, these people all knew each other, so everything was cool, and it was fun to be a part of that.

The next night, I got to hanging with these guys from Mississippi of all places. We were joking around, watching the show. And then later, one of the guys pulled me on stage, and I asked him what was up. He told me, “let’s go dance with some women.” And I did, and it was a fun, yet tasteful night.

See on this Vacation I had a lot of time during the day to reflect on my life. I also had a lot of time at night to party. I realized that even though I have been a homebody for most of my life, there was always this guy who loved life and wanted to get out of his shell trying to get out. I think that it started when I was 15, and I went to the Dominican Republic for a month and a half. There is no such thing as staying in your shell there. You come home from work, all sweaty, and before you even get in the door, they are talking about how you have to rush off and get ready to go to some function. They might say something like, “Oh, we are taking a trip across the country, and will leave in half an hour.” Meanwhile, all I am thinking is, “can I get my fucking foot in the door before you talk to me about plans?” On New Years, we were supposed to have a little dinner, which of course, in a few hours, turned into a party with food, booze, and 50 people. You see, in the DR, there is no shell. These people love life, and staying inside a shell to them is considered a diss. If you do, you better be ready to have that shell cracked, or you will not survive.

Fast forward to junior year in High School. I have an opportunity to graduate in 3 years by taking what is called Double English, which is 2 years of English packed into one year, each half being harder than normal. My Mom, of course, didn’t want me to do it because I have had problems with reading comprehension in the past. I, of course, don’t let up, and my Senior Year of High School, I was a college freshman.

Before I graduated college, I didn’t know what a Database was. My new boss gave me what he affectionately calls “the list”, which is a list of things about Databases, SQL, ADO, and VB that I needed to know. Supposedly, I was the only one who actually learned the list. Now I manage databases and write reports that effect people’s lives, and I can do things that can save Millions of dollars.

Fast forward to the Bahamas. I never really was a dancer. I always felt self conscious about it. Now, I am partying it up and dancing with the Co-eds. I even like to dance now. I think that I am better than I was before, because I have more confidence, but the Jury is still out on whether I am good or not. But the point is that I realized that I wanted to come out of my shell. Now that I look at all my actions as a representation of me not wanting to get out of my shell just yet, everything seems clear, and I will not make the same mistakes again. It is time to get out and enjoy life, and perhaps, one day, even dance on Roller Skates.

Cloudy Day: The Will But Not the Way

I’m pretty lethargic by nature, and I am usually content with sitting at home hugged up with a good book on programming or Tulipmania, or puttsing around online Googling worthless knowledge and going on IMDB to get useless movie trivia and to study up for my next game of Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon, which I have surprisingly never played. But today, it is the first day in a long while that I can get on my Bike and cruise down Kelly drive, trying not to hit Geese, culminating in a stop at Boathouse Row where I usually buy an overpriced pretzel from the “Chief” and banter with the people around me. But by some magic stroke of fate, I’m sitting at home with a cold.

Analogously, when it comes to my work, it seems that I usually either have the will but not the way or the way but not the will. I will get into work, or in present days, fall out of bed and walk 5 feet to my computer, and I will say to myself, “I am going to kick ass today.” Once I tell myself that, everything goes wrong. I start getting errors saying Office is not installed, my disk gets fragged causing that lovely core dump blue screen of death, or a normal 5-minute task takes 2 hours.

Then there are those times when everything works, except my head. I’ll have plenty of work to do and everything is working perfectly, but nothing seems to come out. It’s like there is this cloud over my brain. No amount of coffee or breaks to take walks or play Counter Strike can get me to a clear horizon.

Then there are those days that come few and far between, when the stars are aligned just perfectly, and you have the will and the way to move heaven and earth. Don’t I wish that today were one of those days. I’d ride for miles with the wind to my back and the sun shining on my face, passing the still melting dirty snow banks. Then I’d get some much needed work and studying done in the comfort of my PJ’s. But I am just stuck here, in the mud, with this thundercloud over my head, and I just can’t wait for the rain to stop pelting my face.

Rainbow Connection

So The Muppets Take Manhattan has been on cable a lot lately, and I have to tell you, I haven’t laughed so hard in my life. Animal is hilarious, and I love the musical number with the rats in the kitchen. The amount of adult humor and messages in these movies and shows is amazing. My dad told me that he missed “The Muppet Show” because of all the adult humor in it, and I never understood that until now. The truth is that the Muppets have a special place in my heart, but I think that I haven’t fully appreciated them until now.

There was this bit in The Muppets Take Manhattan with Ralph working in a dog kennel that caught my eye. There was a guy who came in with a dog name Snuckums, and he told Ralph to get Snuckums some rubber toys. He said, “Snuckums prefers the rubber Wall Street Journal to the rubber Washington Post.” I don’t know why I liked this so much, but I just started laughing out loud. It’s probably the political connotation of liking one news rag over the other. Are there liberal and conservative Muppets?

Then, there is one of my favorite shows, “Fraggle Rock”. In Fraggle Rock, there are these guys called Doozers, and all that the Doozers do is stay busy by building these sugar towers. To this day, I have no idea why they did that. Then, much to their surprise, these snooty little Fraggles come along and eat their hard work. It is kind of like most of our jobs. We stay busy doing work, and we have no idea how our work fits into the world. Then, if we are one of the lucky few that gets to actually see the fruits of our labor, our work is either destroyed or conspicuously consumed.

Who can talk about the Muppets without talking about Sesame Street? I still can’t here “Let it Be” without thinking “Letter B”. And who could forget “Rubber Ducky”, by the lovable Ernie? One of my Lesbian teachers had a pet theory that Burt and Ernie were Gay. She was making fun of the fact that the Sesame Street guys actually came out with this whole big statement saying, “Bert and Ernie are not Gay!” This shows you how deep this whole Muppet thing gets for some people. I am not saying that I have a position on this theory, but two guys sharing a bedroom for over 30 years is a little bit suspect. Don’t you think?

And who can talk about the Muppets without talking about Kermit The Frog? Every time that I hear “Rainbow Connection” I feel warm inside. Kermit always had a special place in my heart, and I never knew why. My Mom tells me that even when I was still in the crib, when Kermit came on the TV, I would just light up. I remember when he used to do the news, “This is Kermit the Frog here reporting live.”

I think that now I know why I loved Kermit so much. I think that we all love Charlie Brown because he is such a loser, and we are rooting for him. Kermit is the opposite. Kermit is everything that we want to be. He has this old school Hollywood dorky coolness about him that reminds me of Fred Astaire. He plays an instrument and he loves strong women. He is a leader who genuinely loves his friends, and when the going gets tough, he always does or says the right thing to make everything better. If we had more Kermits in the world, then the world would be a better place. We need them for the lovers, the dreamers, and me.

The Queen's English

Is it just me, or does almost everything that is said with a British accent sound cool? One of my favorite movies is The Lion in Winter, because of it’s cunning dialogue and memorable quotes. Also, because Peter O’toole has that John Wayne quality in that anything that he says just sounds so cool. But I think that my favorite quote from that movie is perhaps the stupidest one, and it only works because of the accent. Prince John merely says, in that whiny voice of his, “You stink. You’re a stinker and you stink.” I can’t do that line, or this wonderful movie any justice.

Perhaps that’s why I like the Prime Minister’s questions so much, because it is so, I don’t know, British. It is so filled with pageantry and rowdiness. The people totally insult each other, but the nature of it does not make it look offensive. It’s this great back and forth, with the roar of the crowd in between.

Whenever Tony Blair gets pissed off at something that the conservative guy says, he always brings up the poll tax. Here is an illustration of what a normal exchange sounds like, with some exaggerations on my part:

Conservative Guy: Well, the prime minister sounds quite cunning when he speaks about me, but he hasn’t told you that he has ruled over the worst Economic performance in recent history, and his mother has sex with sheep.

Croud: Har Har Har Rah Rah Rah Har Har Har.

Tony Blair: Under my administration, employment is up, college admission is up, and there is far more medical access than ever before. And my mother may have sex with sheep, but I have never thought of anything as horrible as the poll tax.

Croud: Har Har Har Rah Rah Rah Har Har Har.

Can’t we bring this to America? Every time I look at it, I wish that our President had to do it. I mean, I think that Bush would crap his pants under such pressure. I’d pay money each week to see this. It’s like watching a football game, with the jockeying for position, the fight for the ball, and the rowdiness of the crowd. Perhaps I’d go to a Bar and slam back a few cold ones and start singing fight songs every time one of the Liberals scored a good blow. Don’t you think that we could get more people involved in Democracy if it was just another excuse to drink?

The State of the Black Union

Have I ever told anyone that I love C-SPAN? I mean, I think that I am addicted to it. Nobody should like something so much. My favorite thing on C-SPAN is the yearly symposium done by Tavis Smiley called “The State of the Black Union”. He gets Black leadership from clergy, academia, government, and the private sector together to talk about the struggles facing Black America today.

My favorite part is Cornel West, who always brings his A game. First of all, I like the guys sense of style, both in his look and his speech. I mean the Afro and the crazy beard seems to work for him. I like how he talks about the struggles in America, not just Black America, from a historical perspective. I love how he respects the intellectual process and the need for dialogue, because finding people who do respect both of these things in our society is like trying to find someone who wasn’t stoned at a Dead concert. I think that brother West says it all here, all errors and emotions mine:

And we‘ve got to be clear about where the starting point is. The starting point is there is too much Black social misery in the world and in the country. Too many folks suffering ought not be suffering, so we have to keep the focus there. Then the question becomes, how do we get clarity of vision, quality of service, but preserve our sense of history? Because the present is history, and you are looking at history.
…
But the issue is bigger than us. And the question is, how do we bring together the political leadership that is courageous, the spiritual leadership that knows how to speak each of death and dread and despair, and the economic leadership that knows how to engage in entrepreneurial creativity, and then the ordinary folk with all of their riches and their unbelievable creativity and their music and what have you? So we need a division of labor. We need to respect each other enough that we answer to different geniuses and contributions that we make so our egos do not get in the way of the struggles of the people.

Searching for Debra Winger

There is a Documentary by Rosanna Arquette that I keep seeing on cable called Searching for Debra Winger . The premise is that Arquette was sitting one day wondering why, at the top of her game, Debra Winger left the movie business. So she gets a lot of actresses together, mostly in their late 30’s and early 40’s, to talk about their struggles in the movie industry. Towards the end, she has a separate interview with Debra Winger herself. This movie hit home for me because it talked about the narrow attitudes of what is considered sexy in our society as well as the lack of good human characters in the popular arts.

It really annoys me that this society, in general, relies way too much on looks. It isn’t even just that. What really irks me is that this society has a very narrow view about what is sexy. The popular standard for sexiness is pre-pubescent Arian looking women, or should I say girls, with exposed ribs, silicon breasts, and flat asses. We are taught that Black isn’t beautiful and that it is better to look unhealthy and thin then healthy and, I don’t know, a person who actually eats food during the day. It really sucks for women, because by the time they reach their sexual peak, they are considered damaged goods, and this is based on useless and arbitrary standards. Who would think that men would think that a woman with experience who is as horny as a 20 year old guy would not be sexy?

Whoopi Golberg talked about how she is often pigeonholed into playing the Aunt, or some character like that. I remember her saying “Aunts fuck”. The lack of a portrayal of anyone over 30 who doesn’t look like Pamela Anderson as a sexual being is really disturbing. It isn’t honest, and it doesn’t paint a full picture. How can we have art about life if we excuse 99.9% of the population as asexual?

Martha Plimpton had a monologue quoted here that really hits the money:

I'd just like to see a role for women where someone who isn't traditionally attractive is not portraying the best friend. You know, the character that only speaks in questions. "Gee, are you gonna go out with him? Do you think I look fat?" I'm so sick of hearing how there's no strong roles for women. I don't care about strong roles. I just want to see women who are characters! A nun, a serial killer, a housewife, as long as there's some depth there.

This basically sums up what is wrong with Hollywood today. There is nothing wrong with trashy movies or movies with gratuitous sex and violence. To say that I don’t watch these movies, or even enjoy them at times, would be a lie. But is that all that we have to offer? Why can’t I see movies that show humanity? I want to see people at their highest highs, their lowest lows, and their every day normal state. I want to see that mirror to nature crap that I here people talking about on “Inside The Actor’s Studio” all the time. I want to see acting that is so powerful that a character drinking a glass of water is as explosive as a nuclear blast.

But this isn’t easy, and Hollywood, being about business and not art, is only interested in what is easy and can be merchandised. With that, I will leave you with a quote by the subject of the film:

“For me, when it started to be these schedules, like you get the script and you had to go to work in 4 weeks, 3 weeks, I got lost. It's like, what happened to my 3 months of preparation?”

Surreal Rocky Harbor

The other day I was thinking about my college days and some of the parties that I went to. I remember having a lot of fun indulging myself in the things that college students indulge themselves in. But every once and a while, I would have a surreal moment at these parties. I would be sitting in a smoky room with a plastic cup filled with “Beast” while the bowl was being passed around. I indulged myself just like everyone else, but I remember thinking that some of the people in the room’s whole life revolved around such indulgences. They had nothing going for them, and they had no motivations other than the life of the party. I remember thinking that if these kids where Black from the inner city and not White from the suburbs, then they would be a statistic or a bad joke.

These kids did everything wrong. They hardly went to class, and they got drunk and stoned every night. But they were not the first in their family to go to college. They had a safety net, and their parents were paying for school. They didn’t have to worry about heightened expectations or getting a good GPA in order to keep their scholarship. Most people who make even half the mistakes that they make ruin their lives.

So is it a burden to be a Black person? It depends on how you look at it. I could talk about institutional racism, eugenics, social Darwinism, and the history of Slavery, but I am not. I think that when it really comes down to it, being Black means that many people will not go out of their way to help you or give you the benefit of the doubt the way they do with Whites. Now, you can sulk in your misery of being at the bottom of the ladder, or you can use it as a source of strength and build your own ladder.

My father told me, as his father told him, that because of my Black blood, I will have to work twice as hard as the next guy to go half as far. Now I was never poor, so I could afford to make more mistakes then the next guy, but I took it to heart. I’ve used it as a source of strength. Because, at the end of the day, if you know that you aren’t going to get away with not doing the right thing, then it is motivation to stay on course. I think that one of the reasons that I like the Arts so much is because in the back of my mind, I told myself that as a Black person, I would have doors closed on me if I wasn’t worldly.

You know they say that in fighting, you should use your weaknesses as your strength. If the other guy is bigger than you, then you are more nimble and can use his weight against him. Arthur Ash won Wimbledon by playing on stereotypes. People thought that because he was Black, he would crush the ball, and instead he applied backspin, doing the exact opposite, catching his opponent off guard. If people have low expectations for you, then it is easy to look good by exceeding them. All I can do is keep my race as a beacon to keep me on course for the rocky harbor of my goals.

Boogie Wonderland

The other day, I was waiting for the train in the snow while listening to Earth Wind and Fire, whom I love more than I probably should because they just fill me with joy. Then I started to think about Disco and how it is possibly the most interesting pop culture phenomenon in American History. Who could imagine that Black people and Gay people could get together and create something great? Who could imagine that rich white macho businessman would love something so much that was created by Blacks and Gays?

Let’s be honest, Blacks and Gays never really had a great relationship. It has a lot to do with the way that minority groups jockey for power. I also think that Blacks have always had a nuanced position on Homosexuality. Because they are a minority group, they have always avoided showing any signs of weakness, and in this society, people think that Homosexuality is a sign of weakness. But then again, most Black people know that that nice guy who they go to Church with is “different”, or that it is weird that Uncle so and so always brings his “friend” over for Christmas. But it is this feeling of this need to be strong that has caused Blacks, in general, to be more Homophobic then many groups. Gays, who expected love from their oppressed brothers and sisters are mad because they don’t get respect. So the fact that these groups got together and created Disco is amazing.

I think that the Disco Era was a happier time. It was that great time right after the pill and before HIV where everyone was ready to party and you couldn’t ketch anything that you couldn’t cure with a shot the next day. It was the magical time when Cocaine was “not addictive”. All the songs where about hope, love, and living. I mean think of some of these titles and lyrics, “Staying Alive”, “Celebrate good times come on”, “I will survive”, “If you feel down and out, sign a song, it will make you dance”, and “Can’t get enough of your love babe”.

If the 60’s and 70’s where the life of the party, then the 80’s and 90’s where it’s hangover. With AIDS on the scene, I grew up with the mantra of “no glove no love”. In fact, my elders pretty much made it clear that if I had sex with the wrong girl then my dick would fall off, because liberals can be prudes when it comes to their own children. In addition, not only is cocaine now very much addictive, but crack has ruined our neighborhoods, even my own. Oh, and all those happy songs are now all about selling drugs, robbing people, bitches, and, of course, hoes. Who wouldn’t love lyrics like “I’m fucking you tonight”, “But a bitch can't get a dollar out of me...I'm a motherfucking P-I-M-P”, “Fool what you want? your life or your jewels?”, and who could forget “Put it in my mouth/She said put it in her mouth/I said my motherfuckin mouth”.

So what happened to us? What happened to the great joy, the inner love of humanity? I’d say that the 60’s and 70’s were a naïve time, a time when people thought that they could do whatever they wanted and not suffer the consequences. The problem with the Hippy movement is that the people who could tell you its greatest faults are no longer with us. They died with a needle in their arm or a little powder on their nose. Us children of the 80’s were made to clean up after all their mistakes. Boy, would I have loved to be the person making the mistakes and not the one who has to clean up after them. But can I at least clean up listening to some good music?

Wine and Cheese

So I saw the Gates in Central Park on Saturday, because I was in New York to visit some friends. I have to tell you, I really don’t get the hype. People came from all over the country to see a bunch of orange Gates. They are just Gates people. That’s it! There really isn’t anything special about them other than where they are, and where they are does not need anything added to it. Central Park is one of the best pieces of art in the world. Why mess with perfection?

I am really tired of these self-important debutant wine and cheese fuckers. They pass as loving art and knowing about it, but all they know about is themselves. Art is beautiful because the best thing that we all have to offer someone else is a bit of ourselves, and art, at its best, is a gift of ourselves. There isn’t anything wrong with not sending a message and just making something that is beautiful, mind you, but I looked at the Gates and felt, I don’t know, blah.

I chalk the Gates up to yet another artist saying, “Hey, look at me and look at what I can do.” I hate that. The whole look at me patting myself on the back self-aggrandizing bullshit just irks me. It isn’t what art should be about. And then there are the critics and the people who know what’s “in” who sit around and do a circle jerk over this stuff, salivating over how smart they think they are and how big they think that their collective artistic penis is. Then, the SCLM, being lazy, does a whole bunch of stories about the wonders of art, and they have no idea what the hell they are talking about. Then they poison our society with the idea that art is shallow and pretentious. They make people think that art is only for the elite, the people who don’t need to work and can spend millions expressing themselves.

Art can change the world. It can bring people together, in a profound way, not just in a capitalist, bring Lemming-esque tourists shoulder to shoulder to Central Park kind of way. It can break through the walls that we all set for ourselves, the walls of country, economics, knowledge, social status, race, sex, religion, whatever. We can see the beauty in it all and be captured by it and then be intrigued to ask questions that we would never ask before. We can go to a world that we would never visit, because it is so “different”, and we can let the art take us there, both figuratively and literally. It will not take us there if it isn’t taken seriously, and I think that this whole Gates hoopla is a roadblock in our travels.